My Guardian Angel
by Random Snarfle
Summary: Eiri returns to New York one final time with no intent of an eventual return to Japan. Things aren’t as bleak as they seem, however, when the novelist is given a second chance… OneShot!


**My Guardian Angel**

This was the end. There was nothing more Eiri wanted than to just shut his eyes and hope, no, pray that they never open again. Gripped tightly in his left hand was a lighter and empty pack of cigarettes. The last of his nicotine sticks was hanging in his mouth. In his right hand… there was a gun.

He puffed lightly on the cigarette, the paper burning farther and farther towards the filter. Soon, the ashes would fall and the cigarette would be finished. It was to be his last cigarette. Come the morrow, Eiri would be no more. And yet it was still too late.

The blond watched as the grey dust fell from the end of the burning cigarette, and he moved up his left hand to remove the remaining bits of paper and filter. Carelessly, he flicked it to the side and the soft orange glow of the end fizzled out. That was how he should have gone all those years ago. His flame was long gone and yet he was still there.

"Yuki…" A soft moan escaped his lips, as though he were pleading with someone who was no longer there. "I'm sorry…"

No one was coming. Yuki Kitazawa was dead. And very soon, Eiri Yuki would follow his mentor into the after life…

He glanced to the left.

He glanced at the ceiling.

He turned around and gazed at the faint flakes of snow falling upon the cold cityscape behind him.

He lifted the gun.

He breathed into the barrel.

He pulled the trigger and

Bang.

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Darkness. Cold darkness enveloped Eiri, stealing away his warmth. This was the end. The end, the end, the end, the… light? There was a soft light flickering before him. Eiri reached out for it, but found he could not move. Oh, how he longed for the warmth of that beautiful shining light.

"That was a close one." The light, it spoke! Such beautiful words strung together in a melodious phrase of… wait.

There was something wrong here. Hadn't he just died?

And then the darkness was gone. Eiri found himself standing in that same room where he had died, not once but twice; by his own hand and his former sensei those many years ago. Perhaps he might have felt more incredulous, had he not been currently experiencing the worst headache he had ever had in his 23 years of life. Gasping, a hand shot up to where the pain was most excruciating: the back of his skull.

But the skull was no more. Rather than the soft yellowed locks of hair, Eiri only felt something wet, cold, and rough. Pulling his hand back in surprise, he found it soaked with blood and gore.

Realization sunk in. Oh, God. He didn't die. He shot himself in the head and still _he didn't die_! What horrible curse was this, that he'd be doomed to an eternal life of pain and suffering!?

No. He needed to think more logically. This had to be a dream. A horribly disgusting, painful… what kind of dreams were painful? This pain was real. This cold was real. This room was real.

And turning around, Eiri realized that the splitting image of his own corpse lying upon the bloodied floor was also painfully real.

An unbloodied hand shot up to his mouth as he gaped. His lungs felt like they'd turned to stone and his body was cold like mid-winter frost. He was dead. He wasn't dead. There he lay: a bloody corpse… yet here he stood, a wounded man. What sort of divine beings could find such satire in this painful ironic contradiction: a corpse that still lives while the body is dead!?

"That was a close one, Eiri Uesugi."

Amber eyes darted around wildly, in search of the one who spoke. The voice was warm and familiar, yet at the same time strange and new. It didn't take long for Eiri to discover the owner of these words, as he suddenly became aware of the fact that he was not alone in this room. Eiri cast his gaze away, looking towards the night sky beyond the dirtied windows.

"Why is it you look away? Are you startled by my appearance?" The being spoke again, words like butterflies fluttering through the air. This was no ordinary person, inflicting such overwhelming emotion upon the haggard novelist.

For a moment, Eiri said nothing. What could be said in a situation so strange? What _could_ be said, when the back of his throat had been, but moments ago, ripped away by a speeding discharge of metal and gun powder?

After a long silence, Eiri spoke the words that had been burning in his mind all this time. "What happened?" His voice rasped and a small dribble of blood oozed from the corners of his mouth.

And yet the other person paid no heed, smiling in a way that Eiri swore he had seen before. "Such an odd question, when the answers are but written upon my face. A mortal sin has been committed and you, dear Eiri, have lost your way." Stepping out from the darkness and into the faint light cast by the nearby window, Eiri finally saw the full figure of the one who had spoken.

With fair skin, soft as a powder of snow, and voluminous black hair, the figure standing before Eiri quickly went down in his list of the most beautiful people he had ever laid his eyes upon. Soft brown eyes stared intently back at the novelist, and he suddenly shied away his eyes. He did not deserve to gaze upon such a beauty…

"My dearest Eiri, do not shy away your eyes from seeking out the flesh standing before you." Clad in a white gown, the figure outstretched their arms, as though inviting Eiri to partake in an embrace. "I beseech you; turn and face me now and speak candidly of your capital mistake."

And then something clicked. In the back of Eiri's mind, or at the very least what was left of it, something brought him back to his senses. This person was just that. A person. There was no reason for him to lose face now, whether he be dead, dying, or very much alive.

"I blow my fucking brains out and you want a hug? This is it then. I'm in hell." He nonchalantly slipped his hands into his pockets, paying no mind to the fact that his bloodied hands were staining his expensive suit; to do so would have been pointless, considering the rather large stain that continued to grow along his spine.

The figure was unaffected by the scorn in Eiri's voice. "Not hell, Eiri. Not now. Not yet. And if all goes well, not ever." Lowering their arms, the figure cleared their throat and set both their arms stiffly at their side, bowing. "I am called Ureeruhito, but please know me as Ure."

Eiri could not help but raise an eyebrow at Ure. It was an oddly disgusting name for someone who looked so… obviously he had lost some brain function from that shot. Had he really been fawning over this person only moments ago? He was getting to be as bad as…

"Shuichi."

He tried to suppress his gasp of surprise, but Eiri had not the will power to do so. Ure had finished his thoughts out loud. What could explain this phenomenon, other than the explanation that Ure was a figment of his imagination, thus in-tune with his own thoughts? Still, that was not why Eiri had gasped.

Now that Eiri was dead, that pink-haired fool was out of his life for good! All those long irritating months of being bothered, annoyed… comforted, pleasured, happy…

…and loved.

"What have I…?" Eiri turned and allowed his hand to fly up to his mouth again, as though he were about to be sick. His eyes flashed as he shot a glance back to the cold, unmoving body that had once been his; the body that had once lain beside the boy with whom he had shared his apartment, his life, his love...

"For your unforgivable sin, your own suicide, you are doomed to wander this world for all eternity. You are doomed to watch the lives of those who cared for you fall apart. Doomed to watch forevermore. Doomed to hell on earth." Those words were no longer beautiful as they were spat from the lips of Ure. Vile, detestable, ugly words. They didn't fit. Something was amiss.

"Why, then…" Body shaking, Eiri slowly withdrew his hand and glared at Ure, eyes filled with contempt, "Why have you come if I'm just going to hell anyway!? To mock me!?"

Gentle hands reached out and caressed Eiri's cold cheek. The hands looked cold like ice, but felt warm and sent a tingling sensation wherever they touched. "Sweet and dear Eiri, you have truly lost your way. Do you no longer believe in the kindness of others? Has your heart remained so frigid? Is the idea of redemption so beyond your fragile mind?"

For a moment, Eiri softened his steely demeanor. This figure. This Ure. This creature. Could it be that on this snowy night of cold and lonely death that Eiri has met…

"An Angel of the Lord."

"Stop finishing my thoughts." Eiri growled. The thought was stupid, and Eiri felt stupid for thinking it; an angel coming to save the embittered novelist from an eternity of pain and suffering? Preposterous. What God, assuming there even _was_ such a being, would care enough to send such beauty to his aid? "This is bullshit. I wanted to die to _die_. Not to exchange witty banter with some supposedly Holy chick."

Ignoring the celestial being behind him, Eiri moved towards the corpse on the ground, staring at it. The gun was no longer in his grip but had fallen between his knees, propelled by the force of the shot. Likewise, his arm had flown down and lay unnaturally across his chest. And although his head was peacefully leaning against the wall, the damaged that had been done was revealed in the odd assortment of splatters and stains streaked along the walls. He had not died a beautiful death. He had not deserved as much.

Ure moved from their previous standing place and walked towards the body upon the floor. Kneeling beside the pale corpse, Ure placed a kiss upon the former Eiri's forehead. "Blessed be thee who adores such a person like yourself, Eiri…" Turning back to the standing Eiri, Ure gave another warm smile, "I am no woman."

"Congratulations. You look like a drag queen." This was beginning to get old. There was a feeling of anxiousness within Eiri's heart… but why? Why was this person here? This angel? If there ever were such things… why would it take the time to stick around with a wretched soul like Eiri? "I'm a goddamn Buddhist. What the hell are you trying to play at?" He shot a sideways glance at the presence before him, "Why are you even here?"

"To save the soul of beautiful human being."

Another glare crossed Eiri's face. That hadn't answered Eiri's question. "Are you incapable of a straight answer?"

"Perhaps." Ure's smile did not falter in the least. "But if you would rather hurry along into afterlife, I shall make things plain. I come with an offer of salvation; an offer to undo what has been done. I have come, Eiri, to give you a second chance at life on earth."

That was more than enough to capture the attention of Eiri Yuki. Another chance to live, even after he had so stolen away his own breath; the idea sounded so irrational. For what purpose would Eiri be given a second life? What made him any more special than Yuki Kitazawa? Where was _his_ second chance?

"No, thank you. I'd much rather just hurry along to hell, if you don't mind."

This time, Ure had been affected by the words from Eiri. The angel's eyes seemed to fall and their voice grew dim, almost melancholy. "Then, so be it."

And yet Eiri couldn't escape the feeling that those words were laced with venom.

"You may so choose to deny life, Eiri. That is a choice that is yours, and was yours, up until you made the decision yourself: the final decision." Ure's eyes slowly shifted outside towards the window. "I pray that you will not find regret with your choice only after it has come too late. For now is the time when _he_ shall approach."

Eiri had no time to react.

He had no time to beg. He had no place to hide.

Shuichi entered the room.

Although he realized then that Shuichi could not see him, Eiri could not help but reach out for the boy, whose breath had caught in his throat. It only took an instant for the truth of what he saw to sink into Shuichi's mind.

The cold. The gun. The blood. The man. Eiri Yuki was dead.

A single animal-like cry was emitted from the young man's throat as he fell to his knees. His hands hovered in front of his mouth as the inexplicable horror of what he saw was permanently etched into his retinas. On hands and knees, Shuichi dragged himself closer to the form of his deceased lover's body. All the while, staggering sobs forced their way out of his throat, cutting off his ability to take a breath.

And then he reached Eiri. The reflections of the white snow from outside illuminated the paleness of his features. The red blood framed the outline of the man he loved with a horribly morbid beauty. Even in death, Eiri Yuki would be gorgeous no matter the circumstances. Shuichi reached out and traced Eiri's jaw line with his fingertips. What was once so warm was now so cold and devoid of any light or life…

"Stop it!" Eiri cried, turning to Ure. He reached out and grabbed the angel by the hem of their gown, his face frantic with distress, "I didn't want this! Make it stop, please!"

The angel could only shake its head. "It _was_ what you wanted, Eiri. It was the choice you made when you pulled that trigger. This is the price you pay for death."

Pressing his lips against Eiri's, Shuichi pleaded for his lover to wake up. He could see the blood, but his mind was shattered, unable to accept it for what it was. "Yuki, come on! Open your eyes! I love you! I'll never leave you! Please, Yuki!!" He kissed him again and again, until a small stream of blood found its way onto Shuichi's lips. Tasting the dull metallic flavor, Shuichi let out a cry of anguish. His sobs had escalated into screams, as he was unable to hold back the pain that was stabbing at his heart. "Yuki!! No!! I can't do this without you…! I can't, I…! I won't!!" Still frantic, still grieving, still screaming, Shuichi's hands reached for the gun that had lain discarded by Eiri's leg.

"No!! Shuichi!!"

The gun was in his hands.

The gun was aimed at his heart.

His fingers curled around the trigger.

"I… I love you… Yuki…"

"Shuichi!!!"

And then darkness once more. Suddenly, Eiri felt as though he were neither here nor there. His body was enveloped in a numbing emptiness that stole away his senses and made his mind heavy with sleep. He could slip away. He could slip away and all the pain would be gone, over with, once and for all!

_I love you, Yuki._

Eiri felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Something wasn't right. That voice… he shouldn't still be hearing that voice…!

_I'll never leave you, Yuki._

No… no, no, no!! If Yuki could hear Shuichi, then that must mean that Shuichi was… Shuichi is…!

"Dead."

And then Eiri watched as the light from before fluttered in front of him once again. He watched as it slowly began to grow closer and closer, his body warming as the rays saturated his pale skin.

"Do you want to die?"

Eiri tried to shut his eyes, but the darkness would not return. That bright light continued to wash over his body like waves upon a sandy beach. Did he want to die? Yes. No. Maybe… "I don't know…!"

"Do you love Shuichi?"

What? This question was out of place. What could life and death have to do with Shuichi? This was Eiri's life. Just as Ure had said, it was his life to do with what he pleased. If he wanted to die, he could die. If he wanted to live, he could live. That was what life was.

And then it became clear. Shuichi. Shuichi _was_ his life; the light of his life and his reason for being. Without Shuichi, there was nothing… and just as Eiri had seen, the case was the same for Shuichi. One could not exist without the other! And more than anything… more than his distress over New York, more than desire to end his life, more than everything else in the world…! Eiri wanted Shuichi to live.

Eiri's eyes shot open as he gasped for a breath of air. It was cold. The pain in his head was gone, and he could feel the wind from the cracked window playing with the hair on the back of his unscathed neck. Gripped tightly in his left hand was a lighter and empty pack of cigarettes. The last of his nicotine sticks was hanging in his mouth, burned past the filter with the ashes nearly building up around his lips. And in his right hand…

There was nothing. The gun had been thrown aside, left askew on the stained carpet floor. Had it been a dream? Had the whole thing been a single, horrible nightmare?

"Eiri."

With utmost haste, Eiri jerked his head up. Staring back at him was the person who spoke those soft, melodious syllables, the one who saved his life. The person who prevented him from making the worst mistake of his life: the end of his life. He could never forget those delicate features: those adoring eyes that returned nothing but warmth when they looked back into his own. That skin that shone beautifully when reflecting the snow form outside. There were no doubts in his mind. He knew who this person really was.

"Shuichi."

His one and only guardian angel.

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**Author's Notes**:

1 – If you haven't seen the anime, then you may be focused about the setting. This story is an alternate retelling of what happened in the last episode, when Yuki disappeared to New York and Shuichi went to find him.

2 – "Ureeruhito" is an alternate pronunciation of the kanji that makes up Shuichi's name. When literally translated based on the meaning of the separate Kanji, it seems to mean "one (person) who grieves" which ironically suits the story very well.

3 – Did the angel really come or did Yuki dream up an apparition of Shuichi, trying to convince himself to stay alive? I'll leave that up to reader interpretation~

4 – Thank you very much for giving this story a chance. It was written almost entirely in one sitting, and all in one day. And a big thanks to my mommy for her input!


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